


Living with Kevin Day

by 5a5b5p5



Series: Change of Scenery (chef andrew verse) [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: !!!!! God i love chef andrew, Chef! Andrew, M/M, Other, The trauma is lesser here, completely self indulgent, implied/referenced weed, it’s cute, lol, this is silly as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26707648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5a5b5p5/pseuds/5a5b5p5
Summary: “Andrew,” Kevin huffs over the line, sounding breathless and harried, which is never a good sign in Neil’s opinion. “I need you and Neil to come rescue me.”Andrew taps an aggressive rhythm onto the lid of the tomato sauce, “What did you do?or: five times kevin is an endearing inconvenience to his house mates, and one him he’s just endearing.
Relationships: Kevin Day/Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau/Thea Muldani, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: Change of Scenery (chef andrew verse) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943635
Comments: 26
Kudos: 257





	Living with Kevin Day

**Author's Note:**

> surprise! this is absolutely a silly fic not to be taken too seriously. the characters have different stories in this au and they’re just some dumb bros having fun! hope you enjoy!
> 
> this is in the same universe as my fic Change of Scenery, but it can be read separately if desired!

I.

Neil groans sleepily into the crook of Andrew’s elbow, using his strong arm to try to stop the noise from reaching his ears. Andrew shifts onto his back behind him, letting out a pissed-off sigh. It’s sometime in the early morning, and it’s pitch dark in the room Neil and Andrew share.

A loud crash sounds from the kitchen, and Andrew shoves a pillow over his face, letting out a muffled scream. Neil shakes his head at him pityingly. Andrew has an early gig for his catering service at six tomorrow, and it had taken him forever to fall asleep. Neil almost wishes it were a robber making such a racket instead of Kevin, if only so he could kill them for waking Andrew up.

Neil turns until he’s facing Andrew, burying his face into his boyfriend’s chest as Andrew flops his arms back down to the mattress, pillow still sitting on top of his face. “Did we forget to put Kevin in his crate last night?” Andrew asks, voice muffled still, and Neil huffs out a quiet laugh despite himself. 

Another crash. “What the hell is he doing?” Neil snaps, fully awake now and beyond angry about it. He throws the blankets off of himself and tugs on one of Andrew’s enormous hoodies that he likes to pretend he isn’t too short to wear properly. From the bed, Andrew whines pathetically as Neil storms out of their room, swinging around the corner and finding Kevin in the kitchen, covered in flour and a panicked expression on his face. He’s wearing grey sweatpants, a battered up t-shirt that must be either Jean or Jeremy’s, and he’s unearthed a thick cooking book from one of the boxes they keep Andrew’s old supplies from culinary school in.

Andrew shuffles in behind Neil as he takes in the scene, blanket wrapped around his shoulders and pillow creases on his right cheek. He’s wearing a pair of socks with frogs wearing Santa hats printed on them, and Neil tracks his movement as he makes his way over to a terrified Kevin and hold out his hand expectantly. Kevin gives him the book reluctantly, and Andrew takes a quick glance at the page, then to the monstrosity Kevin has in his mixing bowl. Snaps it shut. Kevin winces. “That is not a red velvet cake,” he deadpans, and if Neil weren’t still so pissed, he might swoon at the husky quality of Andrew’s voice. 

Kevin sighs, probably figuring that he’s at least safe from immediate death if Andrew isn’t making any direct threats. “I know,” he says, gazing sadly into the bowl of sticky brown batter. “But it’s Jeremy’s birthday tomorrow and I didn’t know and Jean is picking me up at ten to go celebrate.”

Andrew rubs at his temples in that same way Neil has seen Wymack do in regards to Kevin, and Neil can’t help but echo the sentiment. Kevin is a calculating man, and extremely smart and competent when he wants to be. At times though, dealing with his messes can be beyond exhausting. “And you didn’t think to ask the actual, professional chef with whom you live?” 

Kevin fiddles with the sticky spoon he’d been using to mix the batter, says, “I didn’t want to bother you,” as if he already knows what their response to that will be.

Neil glares at him, but Andrew just sighs again. “Throw that out,” he says, pointing at the sludge in Kevin’s mixing bowl. He hands Neil his blanket like a king handing off his robe and gets to work. 

Neil wraps himself up in the blanket as Kevin does what he’s told and then begins washes the dishes piling up in the sink, getting himself comfortable sitting atop the counter and watching Andrew. He’ll never get over watching Andrew in his element, even if he is pissed off and sleepy as he whips up a new batter in no time, no recipe in sight aside from the one in his own mind. Kevin cleans up Andrew’s used bowls and utensils, though Andrew makes very little mess aside from that, and eventually, he hops up onto the counter beside Neil, scrolling through his phone. 

Neil presses his cheek into the soft blanket, wishing he were back in bed with Andrew, warm and safe and asleep goddammit. He watches Andrew pop a cake into the oven and whips up a quick fluffy white frosting. Andrew painstakingly spoons the frosting into a piping bag and hands it off to Kevin. 

“You take that out of the oven in exactly 30 minutes, no sooner no later,” he says, coming up to stand in front of Neil and sighing when he just makes grabby hands at his boyfriend. Andrew’s still talking to Kevin, but he’s looking at Neil when he says, “Wait for it to cool off completely. You’re on your own with decorating. Put it in the fridge when you’re done and don’t make any more noise.” He picks up off the counter easily, and Neil grins, smooching his temple and watching Kevin amusingly as he literally takes notes. “We are going back to bed,” Andrew finishes, carrying Neil back into their room and plopping them back into bed, falling back asleep almost immediately. 

Neil smiles softly at the man beside him, not quite able to fall back asleep just yet but pleased that Andrew didn’t have any trouble. He’ll have to wake up in a few hours, but at least he will have gotten some sleep. 

Kevin doesn’t make much more noise from the kitchen, and Neil figures he’ll be fine with the instructions Andrew left him. Kevin is good with direct instruction; it’s the actual baking part that he’s useless at, and Neil smiles fondly thinking about his flatmates, snuggling further into Andrew’s sleepy embrace and then promptly falling asleep. 

The next afternoon, Andrew is napping with his head in Neil’s lap when Kevin comes home from Jeremy’s house and tells him that while Jeremy definitely knew it was Andrew who baked the cake and not Kevin, he’d loved it either way.

II.

“What is this?” Andrew asks, dropping his work bag by the front door, still in his chef outfit but hat nowhere to be found, unfortunately. He toes off his shoes to reveal a pair of bright yellow socks with purple zebras on them and makes his way over to the kitchen counter. 

Neil grins at him from the opposite side of the island, gesturing widely to the array of ingredients spread out between them, “Date night! Kevin went out with Thea so we’re making homemade pizzas.”

Andrew makes his way around the island coming up behind Neil and wrapping strong arms around his waist, placing his chin on Neil’s shoulder. “Are we now,” Andrew says, “you’re going to make me cook after five hours straight of doing just that? You would do that to me?”

Neil grins, always beyond amused by Andrew’s dramatics. “Yep,” he responds easily, patting Andrew’s hair with an arm reached blindly behind him, “I know you like cooking with me, anyways.”

Andrew hums behind him, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, “Would rather take a nap,” he mutters, tensing his arms tighter around Neil. “What happened to kissing on dates?” he groans, but it sounds more like a whine to Neil’s trained ear, “or fucking? What happened to fucking? Why do I have to _work_?”

Neil smiles fondly, tracing a finger up and down the back of Andrew’s wide hand. “How about this,” he begins, turning his head to give his boyfriend a quick kiss on the lips, “we make the pizza dough, and while it’s proving, I will repay you handsomely for your service.”

“Hmm,” Andrew hums, pretending to think about his as he moves his hand under Neil’s sweatshirt and presses lightly at a scarred patch of road rash. “Deal,” he says, releasing Neil from his grip and stealing another quick kiss before getting started on the pizza dough, rattling off measurements and instructions to Neil from memory.

Neil will never get over this; how easily they move around each other now, handing off ingredients and not even needing to concentrate on the task at hand, telling each other about their days and trading touches and kisses like second nature. 

They place the bread dough into a fancy bowl Andrew has specifically for that purpose, and Neil repays him as promised, letting himself get lost in Andrew for an indeterminable amount of time, falling asleep shortly after and only waking up when the alarm for their dough goes off on the nightstand. 

They head back out to the kitchen, refreshed and hungry. Andrew is just about to crack the seal on a mason jar filled with his own homemade tomato sauce when his phone buzzes again on the counter. Frowning, he flips it so he can see the display, sighing and putting it on speaker. “What is it, Kevin.”

Neil groans, knocking his head against one of the cupboards. He loves Kevin, he really does, but this was supposed to be a _date night_ goddamnit, not a night spent fixing whatever mess Kevin’s gotten himself into. 

_ “Andrew,”  _ Kevin huffs over the line, sounding breathless and harried, which is never a good sign. “ _I need you and Neil to come rescue me.”_

Andrew taps an aggressive rhythm onto the lid of the tomato sauce, “What did you do? I thought you were with Thea.”

“ _I was,_ ” Kevin huffs out, “ _but she had an emergency at work and had to go in, and then somehow I ended up playing BlackJack with some guys in a club and I lost but I left my wallet at the apartment.”_

Andrew closes his eyes, and Neil knocks his head a little harder, trying and failing to think of a feasible way Kevin could have gotten himself into this situation. “And you called us instead of Jeremy or Jean for what reason?” Neil asks, and Kevin makes an indignant noise across the line.

“ _It’s embarrassing,”_ Kevin whines, and then, “ _hurry up. I’m hiding in the bathroom. I’ll text you the location.”_ Before promptly hanging up. 

“Fucking Kevin,” Andrew mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket and trudging his way into Kevin’s room, emerging a moment later with his pristine-looking wallet. 

Neil looks at the pizza dough mournfully, and then at the array of wonderful ingredients on the kitchen island, stomach growling in protest. 

They arrive at the club Kevin had texted Neil, which is in some sketchy dark alley in the middle-of-nowhere Denver, and Andrew makes Neil wait in the car so it doesn’t get stolen, grabbing Kevin’s wallet from the middle console and storming inside. 

Neil waits for only a moment before he spots Andrew emerging from the club with Kevin in tow, hand wrapped around the taller man’s elbow like a mother holding her rowdy son by the earlobe. Neil unlocks the car doors as Kevin slinks into the backseat, Andrew slamming the door behind him like a death sentence. It must have been worse than they had been expecting. Andrew huffs his way into the driver’s seat, peeling out of the narrow alleyway with ease.

None of them speak for a few moments, and they make their way back to their building with ease. Finally, when they’re parked in the front, Andrew turns to Neil, “He made us drive all the way out there for a seven dollar bet,” he says, and Neil whips on Kevin, who whimpers in the backseat. 

“They wouldn’t let me leave!” He exclaims, “They were bikers, Neil. They were in a biker _gang._ Do you know what biker gangs do to people like me?”

“Make them interrupt their friend’s date night to drive thirty minutes in rush hour traffic to deliver them seven bucks?”

“The _pulverize_ us, Neil,” Kevin insists. “You don’t want me to be pulverized, do you?”

“Yes,” Andrew and Neil say in unison, and Kevin winces. 

He slouches down into the backseat prissily, mutters, “I’m _sorry_ , okay. I didn’t know what else to do.”

The leather seat creaks beneath Andrew as he turns around and flicks Kevin in the middle of his forehead, “You’re an idiot,” he says, opening the car door, and then when Kevin just frowns to himself, “We were making pizza.”

Kevin grins, and the three of them walk up the many flights of stairs to their apartment in silence. 

III. 

“Day, for the last damn time, I’m not going to play Monopoly,” Neil says, trying to speed walk away from his persistent friend. 

Kevin catches up easily, thanks to his long legs and the fact that Neil can hardly move in his work slacks. “It would be fun,” Kevin insists yet again, “I haven’t played it in years!”

Neil is about to respond with any variation of _that’s not my problem,_ but falters at the look on Kevin’s face, wondering when he’d gotten so soft with anyone who wasn’t Andrew. He sighs, which is something he does a lot because of Kevin, “If you can convince Andrew,” he says, “I will play Monopoly with you.”

Kevin hums, “Deal,” and makes Neil shake his hand.

Kevin bribes Andrew with ice cream, which is something Neil would have never seen coming. After some hackling, he promises Andrew five pints of Ben & Jerry’s for one game of Monopoly tonight and another game on credit. It had been a very intense conversation. Neil had been tempted to find a judge's gavel. 

Just as suspected, the game is absolute chaos. Neil doesn’t understand it, Andrew just buys all the property tiles to tax the hell out of Neil and Kevin, and Kevin takes everything far too seriously, making them wait for several minutes every time he has to make a decision.

For some reason, Andrew declares himself as the banker, even though Neil and Kevin are both actual accountants, and he keeps slipping fives from Kevin's pile without him noticing. Neil goes bankrupt first, simply because Kevin and Andrew refuse to give up and he’s not nearly as into the game as them. For the remainder of the game, Neil props himself against Andrew’s shoulder and watches his capable hands move across the board expertly, wondering faintly about what Andrew was like when he played this game as a teenager with Aaron and Bee.

_ No doubt any less viscous,  _ Neil thinks as Andrew raises the taxes on his properties obscenely high and refuses to offer Kevin any trades. Eventually, Andrew wins the game, leaving Kevin to clean up the board pissily. “You know,” Andrew says, leaning back against the armchair he and Neil are sharing and stretching his arms up above his head, “Maybe communism isn’t so bad after all.”

Kevin sulks. 

IV.

“I know I had it _right here,_ ” Kevin is protesting as he digs through his desk drawers for a notebook he won’t find. 

Neil raises his eyebrow at the man from his spot at the foot of Kevin’s bed. “Obviously not,” he says.

Kevin’s distress only grows at his continues searching, and Neil smirks. This is payback for the whole date night debacle, and Neil is enjoying every moment of it. He wishes Andrew would hurry up and get back from work so he can witness this as well. 

As if on cue, Neil hears the front door open and then close, hears the quiet patter of Andrew’s footsteps as he searches for the two of them. Finally, his blonde head pokes around the corner of Kevin’s doorframe, observing Kevin for a moment before joining Neil at the foot of the bed. “What’s up with him?”

Kevin slams the last desk drawer shut, “The Wi-Fi randomly disconnected and I can’t find where I wrote the goddamned password.” Andrew hums unsympathetically, pulling up his phone and typing in the password from memory. Kevin wheels on him when he hears the little _ping_ of the internet connection going through, and Neil smirks, hiding his face into Andrew’s shoulder.

“Andrew,” Kevin says, and it sounds cautious and near-patronizing. Andrew raises an eyebrow.

“No,” Andrew says, and Kevin slams a frustrated hand onto his desk. 

“Why?” Kevin cries out, anguished.

Andrew hums, “I forgot it,” he says, affecting a disappointed tone that doesn’t sound disappointed in the slightest, and Neil huffs in amusement. 

“Wha—” Kevin sputters out, but Andrew is already getting up, pulling Neil along with him.

“It’s a Friday, Day,” he says, walking backward out of the door, “I’m going to shower.”

Later that night, Kevin lays sprawled out on the couch, arm hanging over the edge of it and long legs taking up all of the space. Andrew is in the kitchen, making some sort of curry, and Neil is on his phone as he sits at the kitchen island and watches his boyfriend cook. 

Neil watches as Andrew chops vegetables, flavoring them in a way even Neil will enjoy, frying up chickpeas in a pan and adding tomato sauce and spices and cream, making Neil’s mouth water at the scent. Neil will be forever grateful that Andrew actually enjoys cooking; he remembers his time in college, where Neil had survived off of canned peaches and packaged ramen noodles for three months before Matt had found out and forced a salad on him. 

From the couch, Kevin groans, and Neil rolls his eyes. Andrew turns to face the man, who now has an arm thrown over his eyes dramatically. Andrew points a rubber spatula at him threateningly. Neil locks eyes with Andrew, “I think he’s going crazy,” he says in a sarcastic whisper, and Kevin groans again.

“Maybe if we ignore it it’ll be like he’s not there,” Andrew whispers back, and Kevin huffs, coming up onto his elbows to glare at them.

“Why can’t you just give me the Wi-Fi password?” 

Andrew glares at the man, “ _Because,_ Kevin, the last time you were on our Wi-Fi you bought three hundred dollars worth of protein powder from that sketchy online website that we’ve _told_ you not to buy from and now our entire pantry is full of it.” Andrew huffs, and Neil touches his hand from across the kitchen island, endlessly amused by Andrew’s ferocity. “You’ve lost Wi-Fi privileges until I decide you deserve them again.”

Kevin looks completely unimpressed by this admission, sitting back against the arm of the couch and crossing his arms over his chest, “I can do what I want with my money,” he says, “don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if they were selling seven hundred dollars worth of ice cream for three.”

Neil hops off the stool and makes his way over to the pantry, opening the door and finding about twenty jumbo-sized protein powder jugs in shoved wherever they can fit. “Huh,” Neil says, shutting the door and making his way into the living room to collapse on the comfy green chair, “I thought we were just paying him back for the pizza night debacle.”

Kevin huffs, “That was _weeks_ ago,” he says, and then, “wait, you know the password too, Neil?”

“Damn,” Neil sighs, and closes his eyes, tilting his head up towards the ceiling. 

“Where is it?” Kevin demands, directed towards Neil now.

Neil grins, opening his eyes and leaning his head back against the chair, watching Andrew upside down as he places a lid over the curry to simmer for a little bit and starts piling up the dishes in the sink for Neil or Kevin to do later. “Somewhere you’ll never, ever find it,” he says, watching Kevin spring into action.

After a few minutes, Andrew joins Neil in the living room, draping himself over Neil’s lap sideways in the chair. Neil grins down at him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips and sighing happily as Andrew shuffles around in his lap until his head is pressed to his chest. They watch Kevin grow more and more confused as he checks every nook and cranny of the living room, Neil giving him clues after Kevin begs to play the stupid little _hot and cold_ game. 

Kevin makes his way over to the hallway and Neil calls out, “It’s not in any of our rooms,” after him. Kevin makes his way around the apartment like a detective on a case, prowling and jumping to look in a certain direction as if he can scare the little piece of paper out of hiding. Andrew promptly falls asleep against Neil’s chest after a sleepy demand that Neil wakes him up after twenty minutes to check on the curry. Neil allows himself a moment of quiet disbelief that this is his life; that he gets to have Andrew curled against him as he sleeps, so trusting in Neil’s lap. Disbelief even that he gets to have this innocent fun with Kevin, who he can probably classify as one of his best friends now.

Finally, Kevin steps into the kitchen, causing Neil to crane his neck to watch him and answer his questions. “Hot or cold?” Kevin asks, making his way toward the fridge. 

Neil smiles lazily, “Hot,” he says. Kevin opens the fridge. “Hotter,” Neil says without prompting, and then leaves Kevin to his own devices as he shuffles through the fridge. Finally, Neil hears the freezer door open, “Burning,” Neil says, turning back around, and Kevin picks up a pint of ice cream with fear in his eyes. “You’re on fire, Kev,” he says and watches Kevin’s face as it contorts in horror.

Neil turns back to Andrew, as Kevin starts opening pint after pint of ice cream in search of the password. Neil traces a thumb over Andrew’s sleeping face, ghosting it lightly over the light spattering of freckles on his cheeks, and then swiping it over his full bottom lip gently, prompting Andrew to wake up without saying anything. 

Behind him, Kevin lets out a shriek of triumph when he finally gets to the last pint of ice cream, empty and cleaned out aside from the slip of paper he’d been looking for. Despite Neil’s gentle touch, Andrew jolts awake at the noise, on guard immediately before relaxing just as quickly when he spots Neil looking down at him. Old habits die hard, but new safety can rush them away just as quickly as they kick in. 

Andrew stretches out in Neil’s lap, and Kevin disappears into his room to put the Wi-Fi password somewhere safer, where hopefully Neil will never, ever be able to find it again. 

V.

As is unfortunate tradition, Neil and Andrew wake up to the sound of Kevin stomping around the apartment. This time is more reasonable though, since it isn’t actually the middle of the night this time, and he and Andrew had just fallen asleep on the couch accidentally after a long day at work. 

What is completely _less_ reasonable this time, however, is the fact that Kevin is obviously hiding something from them, which is never a good sign. He’s got both hands behind his back as he shuffles past them suspiciously on his way to his room, giving them a completely not-casual nod on his way. Neil narrows his eyes at his friend, but Andrew beats him to it, sitting up from where he’d been asleep between Neil’s legs. “Whatcha got there, Kev?”

“Nothing,” Kevin answer, far too quickly for it to actually be nothing. Behind him, there’s a tiny, tentative, _meow._

Neil closes his eyes with a resigned sigh, and beside him, Andrew lets out a pained groan. “Kevin,” he whines, “tell me you did not get a cat.”

Another mew from behind Kevin’s back. “Of course not,” he says, and then he’s holding out a tiny bundle of fluff in front of him. “I got two cats.” He splits the fluff in two, and Neil can just barely make out two tiny kitten faces in the masses of fur. 

Andrew knocks his head against the back of the couch, blonde hair messy and stuck out every which way. “Kevin,” he groans again, and Neil can relate. 

Suddenly though, Kevin drops a kitten in each of their laps, “I found them in a cardboard box,” he says, “in the middle of a storm. I already took them to the vet.”

Okay, so not completely irresponsible then, which is surprising but not really. Kevin has always been smarter about other living things than he is when it comes to himself. Still though, “Why would you bring them _here_ ,” Neil asks, picking up the tiny creature that’s been making its way over the expanse of his lap by the scruff of its neck, frowning when it just dangles there passively. He places it back to allow it to continue its exploitation. 

Kevin huffs, “Thea’s allergic to cats,” he says, “and Jeremy and Jean can’t have pets at their place.”

Again, not completely irresponsible.

Neil looks to his side to gauge Andrew’s reaction, smiles when he sees that Andrew’s grabbed his assigned kitten from under its tiny arms, staring directly into its little face. The cat’s arms are stuck straight out between them, and it lets out a little _meow_ before launching into a full-length discussion, mewing over and over again until Andrew raises an eyebrow and sets it back down, where it immediately curls up in his lap and falls asleep.

Andrew strokes a gentle finger over the kitten’s back, and eventually, the other one totters over to its sibling, curling up around it and falling asleep just as quickly, tiny and trusting in Andrew’s gentle hands. 

Dammit. They’re going to have to keep these cats, aren’t they?

Finally, Neil looks back up at Kevin, who’s smirking triumphantly, chin high and haughty, like he knows he’s already won this battle. 

And he’s right, because only a moment later Andrew mutters, “You’re cleaning the litter box.” 

Kevin grins.

\+ I.

Kevin hasn’t gotten drunk in over a year but is considerably high as he dials Andrew Minyard’s number, curling up into Jeremy’s side and shoving his cold toes into Jean’s thigh until they’re warm again. Across the living room, Thea smiles at them, at _him,_ at _Kevin,_ proudly, the golden highlighter on her cheekbones shining in the dim light from the living room lamp. 

They’re all together, which is something that doesn’t happen very often since Kevin’s relationship with Thea is almost completely separate from his relationship with Jean and Jeremy. Still, though, it’s nice to have everyone he loves in one room. 

_ Almost everyone he loves,  _ he thinks, remembering the phone held up to his ear.

Even though Kevin had called Andrew’s number, it’s Neil who picks up, voice bright and confused through the speaker. “Hey, Kev,” he says, and Kevin smiles when he hears Andrew groan off to the side somewhere. He can almost envision his friends making dinner together, moving around each other seamlessly, Andrew holding out a spoon for Neil to taste and Neil humming in approval. 

“Neil!” Kevin says, “Andrew!” Jeremy threads a gentle hand through Kevin’s hair before taking the joint from Kevin’s fingers, and he can feel Jean’s thumb rubbing gentle circles into his ankle like a million pinpricks over his newly sensitized skin. 

“Aren’t you with your people?” Andrew asks, meaning he must be on speakerphone. Kevin smiles at the term, his eyes lingering on each of the beautiful people surrounding him. _His people_ , Kevin thinks, _these are my people._

“I am,” he hums, and Andrew makes a quick noise of confusion. 

Slightly quieter, Kevin hears Neil ask, “Kevin are you high off your ass right now?”

“S’legal,” says Kevin, and then, “Colorado.”

“Uh-huh,” Neil says, “do you need us for something? We’re making baked Alaska.” An indignant noise from Andrew. “I’m watching Andrew make baked Alaska,” Neil corrects, amusement evident in his tone. 

Kevin sighs, “I just wanted to tell you guys I miss you and the cats.” 

There’s a pause from the other line, and then Neil says, “Awe you miss us already?”

“Never mind,” Kevin huffs. “I just miss the cats.”

Neil huffs a laugh, and then there’s a tiny _meow_ into the phone speaker. “Sir!” Kevin exclaims, startling Jeremy from where he’d been dozing off above him. 

Andrew gasps, mock affronted, “That was obviously King, Day. You can’t even tell the difference between your niece and nephew?”

Kevin frowns, “I thought I was their dad?”

“Only on weekends,” Neil pipes up, as if it’s not a Saturday. 

“Any particular reason you called, Day?” Andrew asks, but he doesn’t sound demanding or cold like he might have a year ago. He sounds fond and happy, which is all Kevin could’ve hoped for him to be. 

Kevin watches Thea’s short, painted nails tap against the arm of her chair, her coiled hair slightly frizzy from a long day, and stretches his feet further into Jean’s lap. “No,” he says.

“Okay,” Neil hums, and then, “Goodbye, Kevin. Have a nice night.”

“Bye,” Kevin responds, hanging up the phone and playing with Jeremy’s fingers where they were previously sprawled out on his stomach. 

Kevin smiles into the night. While he’d always been a sad drunk, he’s consistently sappy when high, and he’d missed his best friends’ voices.

He’ll go back to annoying them tomorrow, but every once in awhile his affection for them bubbles up until he releases it into the world. Not the way it does for Jeremy, Jean, and Thea, but not any less powerful. Having friends was something Kevin had never really had as a child, and he’d always felt better off for it. Being independent was something Kevin could deal with; doing things on his own was an easy as breathing. 

Maybe that’s why he has so many people he loves now; to make up for those years of loneliness. Kevin’s not sure, and he doesn’t need to be. Not right now. Not ever, if he doesn’t need to be. All that matters, for now, is that Kevin is happy, surrounded by people he loves, with two best friends waiting for him at their apartment. 

He can’t wait to annoy Andrew and Neil for as long as they live.

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve never gotten high in my life but i feel like kevin deserves it.
> 
> even if this was silly, kudos and comments still mean the word to me! 
> 
> you can find me on [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/5a5b5p5) and on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/andrewsbutterflyknife)


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